


History of the Trade

by SimplyUndead



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absent John, Big Brother Dean, BoyxBoy, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Little Brother Sam, M/M, No Romance, No Sex, Parent John Winchester, Puppies, Wincest - Freeform, but not really wincest, dean sings to sam, gencest, i don't know it's cute pls read, im going crazy with the tagging, platonic, puppy, word count : 5k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:38:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5017777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyUndead/pseuds/SimplyUndead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam unexpectedly finds a puppy and falls in love with it, however, he can't keep it. Dean's there to comfort his little brother and make everything okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	History of the Trade

**Author's Note:**

> this is exactly 5,002 words and it's the most work I've ever put into anything. Not really, but kind of. Also, in this story, Dean sings like Jensen and not like Dean. Happy reading.

It was a quiet evening in Van Buren, Arkansas, though that was normal, as nothing ever seemed to happen. Even this summer night, with no school the next day to keep anyone home, was just like the others; uneventful and docile. Except for the Winchesters, that is.

Sam detoured from his path home after hearing a few barks from a puppy down an alleyway. He then decided that, because John and Dean still figured he was at the library, he would go and investigate.

He pulled out his pocketknife just in case it was actually a monster disguised as an adorable puppy.  The shaggy-haired teen of thirteen years slowly stepped between the buildings, gushing slightly as he saw the mostly black German Shepherd puppy digging in the trash for some food. He crouched down and clicked his tongue, ushering the dog closer.

"Here boy, come on. I won't hurt you. I'll get you some food, yeah? Come on." He spoke sweetly, patting his thighs. The puppy stared at him hesitantly, but soon came to him when he noticed the boy's outstretched hand holding a cheese cracker.

Sam giggled as the puppy's tongue lapped at his palm, gathering all the crumbs into his sunken belly. One look from the boy could tell that the puppy was a stray. He had no collar and he was definitely hungry. 

"I wonder what your name is, boy." Sam spoke, now scratching the puppy's head and back, rubbing all over him. "How about... Rover? No. Um... Riot?" The dog barked at that and panted. "Yes. I like that too."

"How about you come back to the motel with me and we'll get you some good food? Does that sound good, Riot?" Sam asked, picking the dog up carefully in his arms and carrying him the rest of the way home. He wasn't afraid of the puppy running off, not at all - Riot had taken a liking to him already. He just thought that the puppy seemed pretty weak and honestly Sam was all about puppy cuddles. He'd always wanted a dog. And now the universe had given him one.

Once they arrived at the hotel, Sam hid the dog in his jacket and rushed, as nonchalantly as possible, to their room and fished for the key in his pocket. He struggled to keep the dog hidden and also find the key, which wasn't in its place. But luckily, Dean had seen him from the window and quickly put an end to his struggling by opening the door and letting him in.

"What're you doin', Sammy? Thought you was still at the library, feeding your dork brain." Dean chuckled, rubbing, and messing up, Sam's shaggy hair. He was about to reply to his seventeen-year-old brother when a loud bark cut him off.

Riot fidgeted around recklessly under Sam's jacket, being contained too long and growing scared. Sam struggled to get him calm, deciding that he'd just have to free him and hope that Dean would love him as well.

"What the hell do you got in there, Sam?" Dean asked as Sam grinned and let the dog out of his jacket. Riot jumped and ran around the hotel room, knocking into things, but thankfully not tearing anything up.

"Why is there a dog in here, Sam? We're not allowed to have a dog." Dean spoke sternly. He wasn't mad at Sam, just knew that Dad would be when he got home and found the damned thing yapping about.

"Well, I found him and now he's here. He was all alone, Dean. And he was hungry. Somebody had just left him, De!" Sam whined, walking to the fridge and pulling out a container of lunch meat. He whistled Riot over and began feeding him slices of ham.

"Listen, we can't keep him, Sammy. I know you've always wanted a dog, but we're always on the road. He's not gonna have a proper home and we can't stop in the middle of a case to walk a dog. Not to mention, Dad's definitely not gonna want the thing around." Dean said, remaining stern even though a smile threatened to break at Sam's use of the nickname. 

He had a point, and Sam knew that. All Riot would ever know is the road and the hotels, which admittedly, is all the boys had ever know. Sam didn't want that life for his puppy. But, was this life better than the alley life?

"I know that, Dean. I do, but Riot needs a family. He-" Sam started, only to be cut off.

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up, Sam. 'Riot?' You've already named the damned thing?" Dean asked. Honestly, he was getting irritated. Not at Sam, exactly. More at the fact that he couldn't give this dog to Sam. That he'd have to take it away.

"I... Uh, yeah. I did." Sam said softly, watching as the puppy licked at his fingers, asking for more food. Sam gave it to him, already growing sad at the thought of losing his new friend.

"Dammit, Sammy. You're already attached, aren't you?" Dean asked, shaking his head as his younger brother nodded. Sam wore a pair or puppy eyes that put even Riot to shame. Tears sprang to the boy's eyes as he clutched the puppy.

"I love him, Dean, I can't leave him." Sam cried, his voice breaking multiple times throughout his sentence. He hated that he was being a baby, but he couldn't help it. Growing up on the road left him friendless and rather lonely. He had about three people that actually stayed, as he was always leaving everyone. He had Dean and Bobby and John, if you could count his dysfunctional relationship as an actual bond.

Riot licked at his tears and whined, nudging his face, as if silently telling him to stop crying, to be happy. And that only made Sam cry harder. He'd known this puppy for all of thirty minutes and he'd already been shown more compassion and love than by basically anyone besides Dean and Bobby. 

So, there he sat on the floor, Riot in his lap, licking his face as tears streamed violently down. It seemed much more hectic and loud considering how quiet and dead the small town of Van Buren, Arkansas was. It was almost ironic.

Dean did the only thing he could think of when seeing his little brother in a time of distress. He reached down and scooped up the small-framed boy into his arms. He brought his brother to the uncomfortable hotel bed and wiped his tears.

Sam curled into Dean's side, valuing his brother's comfort over any one else's. He tried to stop his crying as his big brother rubbed his back gently. He always seemed to be doing this, crying over something and having Dean fix it. He was a bad little brother.

"Sammy, I know it sucks. I want a dog, too, and I wish I could give you one, but you know Dad. He won't allow it. I'm sorry, Sammy. We need to take it to the pound first thing tomorrow." Dean said softly, not wanting to hurt Sam, but also not wanting John to come home and find the dog. Knowing John, Dean figured he just pull out his pistol and shoot the damned thing right there. Sam would be even more tore up.

"No!" Sam wailed. "We can't take him to the pound. They-they'll kill him, De!" 

Dean sighed and said, "Well, fine, we'll look for him a home. But Dad's gonna be home in a few days. If he's not gone by then, he'll have to go to the pound." Sam nodded saddly and sniffed. His tears had become spaced, but he was still shaking.

"Let's go to bed, yeah? Worry about in the mornin'." Dean got up and gave him a sympathetic smile. Sam nodded and huffed a breath before kicking his shoes off.

He sat there for a moment, rubbing at his eyes, willing the tears to stop. Dean looked at him, asking a question silently, and when Sam shrugged, Dean got to work. He walked to his brother and unbuttoned his jeans before pulling them off. Sam wasn't embarrassed this time, mostly because he was already worrying about where Riot was going to be taken. 

Once Dean got his jeans off and the boy was left in his shirt and briefs, the older brother turned down the bed and ushered Sam to crawl under the blankets, to which he complied, feeling emotionally drained and tired. Dean smiled and pulled the duvet over the small, fragile boy before striping down himself and joining his brother instead of going to John's bed, where he usually slept when John was out. But, his brother needed him, and Dean was always there for him.

Sam snuggled into Dean's chest, feeling better due to proximity. But that didn't stop the small whimper when Riot jumped on the bed and snuggled up next to Sam.

"Shh. It'll be okay, Sammy." Dean hummed, knowing that he shouldn't let the dog sleep with Sam, as he'll only get more attached, but also knowing that Sam needed the comfort, so he let it slide, opting for dealing with it in the morning.

Sam pulled Riot up to his chest, between Dean and himself, not caring about Riot's not-so-pleasent scent, and cuddling him. Dean began to softly hum and Sam thought that is sounded nice, just the small noise was comforting. And then Dean began to sing, and Sam decided that this was even more comforting.

Sam didn't know the song, but he knew he'd heard it before. Some rock ballad that had played in the Impala, but Dean made it sound better than the original. He voice was soft and sweet and low and Sam slowly started losing consciousness.

"You sing good, De." Was the last thing he mumbled as he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of Dean's song and Riot eating ham and also the book he'd been leisurely reading at that library. All mixed together, it was a strange dream, but most dreams were.

\-----

It was around nine o'clock in the morning when Sam woke up, which was later than usual for him. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, making eye contact with Riot and then proceeded to be licked. 

"Ugh! Riot, stop." Sam giggled, moving to get away from the puppy's tongue. He succeeded, but only by falling off the bed and hitting his head on the bedside table. He groaned, but chuckled when Riot looked scared and then jumped on him, resmuming the licking fest.

Dean, hearing a loud thump, followed by a groan, quickly stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist. "You okay, Sammy?" He hollered in the midst of opening the door. He looked at the scene in front of him and couldn't help but laugh. There laid Sam, strewn about on the floor, the puppy lapping at his face and neck, causing his brother to giggle and laugh. Seeing him so happy, made Dean happy, but then caused him to be sad because he'd soon have to take that happiness away.

"De!" Sam squealed, tears of joy brimming his eyes. Dean gushed at the boy, knowing that having Sam smile was the best damn thing in the world.

"How about you go get in the shower, yeah? And take that mutt with you." Dean spoke with a smile when Riot finally got off Sam. 

"Sure." The boy agreed. "Let's go, Riot. Come on, boy."

\-----

As it turns out, giving a puppy a bath is an adventure on its own. Riot didn't appreciate the water and soap and the confining bath. And Sam didn't appreciate his own stupidity when he figured it'd be a good idea to just let the dog shower with him, which resulted in the boy jumping around like a madman, completely naked, chasing the puppy.

Dean, however, found the tale quite hilarious, laughing for a sold five minutes, swearing up and down that the image in his mind was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. That earned him a playful slug to the shoulder, to which he flipped of his little brother.

"Bitch." He mumbled, throwing a sideways glance from the driver's seat in the Impala. 

"Jerk." Sam spoke teasingly. He loved times like these with his brother. Just the two of them, well, now, with Riot in Sam's lap. 

"You know, you really shouldn't be calling me names. You've got a wet dog in my baby." Dean said, nodding toward the slightly damp puppy curled up in Sam's lap.

Sam nodded and looked out the window, biting his lip to stop the tears forming behind his eyes. Dean looked over when he got no reply, seeing Sam's puckered face and sighing softly. He hated when Sammy was sad.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Dean asked as he turned onto a small road that was a strip for houses. 

"Nothing." Sam said quietly, blinking furiously as the the tears threatened to escape. He stroked Riot's back gently, not to stir the napping puppy.

"Come on, talk to me." Dean said. And Sam didn't reply this time at all, just focused on his breathing and Riot playing with a toddler or going on a jog with a nice woman. He'd be happier, he would. Happier than on the road and in motels.

"Babe, you look like you've been suckin' on a lemon." Dean spoke as he reached over to card his fingers through Sam's slightly damp hair, messing it up or maybe putting it back into place, Sam didn't know which.

"I just... I don't want Riot to go." The boy replied, his voice cracking on the last word. Dean nodded in understanding, not really having any words of wisdom to lighten the moment.

"I know." He said and did the only thing he could; he offered his little brother a hug and kissed his head.

\-----

They spent the entire day going from house to house, looking for an owner who was willing to take in an energetic puppy. Of course, no one suited Sam. They were either too mean or too nice, which meant they would be mean behind closed doors. Dean was, no matter how hard he tired, getting aggrivated with the entire situation. The longer the dog stayed, the harder it would be to let go. He knew that. 

"Sam, come on. We ain't got all day." Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair and pulling in annoyance.

"I know, I know. I just can't leave knowing he's not safe." Sam mumbled as they pulled up to a nice one story house that was painted a creamy light periwinkle. The lawn was beautifully cut, with flowers planted sporadically throughout the yard.

Sam smiled. Riot would have lots of room to play here. He hoped this was the place. He pulled the puppy in his arms and followed Dean to the front door where the elder knocked thrice and waited.

An elderly woman opened the door, greeting both teens with her friendly smile and short, curly white hair. "What can I do for you young men?" Her voice was sweet as honey, but wasn't that overly exaggerated and blatantly fake. She had that look in her eyes, one both boys recognized as wisdom. 

"I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am." Dean started the monolog he'd recited all day to various people, though this time it seemed fresh, real. "But, you see, my family happens to be moving, and we can't keep a dog in our new house." He paused, gesturing toward the struggling puppy in his little brother's hands. "And Sam here, my little brother, is just torn up about it. He can't stand leaving without knowing his puppy is in good hands." 

Sam smiled encouragingly, persuadingly. He could feel that this was the right place, the right person. He wanted Riot to be happy and he knew that the puppy would be, if he could stay here.

"Oh, dear, that's quite a predicament you boys have got here. Why don't you two come in and we'll have a nice chat?" She paused, smiling gleefully.  "Bring the puppy, too, will you?"

Dean looked at Sam and smiled when he saw his brother light up. They shared a look that said 'this is the place' and walked in behind the lady.

"Have a seat, you two. I'll get us some tea. Peppermint or green?" She asked, after gesturing them to take a place on the floral sofa. 

"Peppermint." The brothers said in unison. It was a cozy house, not too small, but not big either. It was warm inside, Sam concurred that it was to do with all the beams of sunlight coming through the many windows. It was beautifully decorated, too. Not really primitive looking, but odd and comforting. And very colorful.

"I just love company, you know? It's been quite lonely since my husband passed." She said as she began brewing tea.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Sam said quickly. She wiped her hand through the air as to dismiss the apology.

"It's alright. It's been quite a while since that happened. Of course, my grandson visits, but I'm too old to get around with his energetic self." She said. "But, enough about me. How about you two?" 

Sam looked worriedly to Dean because it's not like they could just say 'oh you know our mother got killed by a demon on the ceiling and now we travel the country with our dad to venge her death and also we just love what you've done with place.' Dean, however, didn't miss a stride.

"The usual, really. Still in school." He said with a shrug.

"Well, I see." She nodded, pulling the tea off the stove and pouring three cups full. "Oh, where are my manners? My name's Marge." 

"My name is Dean. This is my brother, Sam." He said.

And then they were talking about everything and anything, speaking avidly about weather and politics and family and whatever else came to mind. And it wasn't just Dean and Marge, Sam got join in, too, talking smartly about things he's been learning in school and books he's been reading. But as the evening was drawing closer and the sky was growing dimmer, Dean knew they needed to leave.

John would be back tomorrow and they'd probably be leaving for another state. 

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's getting late. We should probably head back. Busy day tomorrow." Dean spoke when there was a pause in conversation.

"Yes, of course, sweetheart." Marge said and patted both of their shoulders. "Oh, and you said something about Riot being in good hands?"

"Yeah," Sam said softly, reaching down to pet the panting puppy who'd been running around the house. "If you don't care - if you'd, you know, like to have him, that would be good. I mean, I don't care. Whatever is good for you." He struggled over his words, feeling a weight swell in his chest as his time with Riot was coming to an end.

"It'd be my pleasure to take him, sweetie." She said sympatheticly, squuezing Sam's knee in comfort. Sam smiled, knowing that she understood his sadness. "My grandson, Jackson, will absolutely love him."

Sam nodded and thanked her with a smile. He looked at Dean who gave him a questioning look, asking if he was okay, to which he shrugged.

"How much do I owe you two boys?" Marge asked, looking around for her purse.

"No, no." Sam said, swallowing hard. "I don't want any money. I just want Riot to be well cared for." It just didn't seem right to take money in exchange for Riot. It made it out like Sam didn't want him, and that was far from the truth. He wanted the puppy more than anything.

"Are you sure, honey? I don't mind to give you some-"

"No, please. I really don't want anything." Sam said, his voice cracking and a few tears following. He really didn't want to cry again, especially in front of a sweet lady like Marge. 

Dean had already stood to go comfort his brother, but Marge beat him to the chase. She caressed his face and thumbed away the tears from his cheeks.

"I know it's hard, baby. I'll take good care of him, though. And if you're ever nearby, you get big brother here to bring you by, okay? You're always welcome. Riot would love for you to visit, you know?" She comforted, her voice a soothing sound in the quiet of the small house. Sam knew he'd probably never be back to visit, but the idea calmed him, nevertheless. He nodded and smiled, acting on impulse and hugging the woman. She was like the sweet grandmother they'd never had.

Dean felt an odd sense of love for Marge. Anyone as kind to Sam as she'd been, automatically won him over. He mouthed a 'thank you' to her when Sam wasn't looking, to which she shook her head, dismissing the praise.

"We should get going, Sammy. Say goodbye, okay?" Dean said gently. Sam nodded and grabbed Riot, squeezing him hard and murming things to him along the lines of 'good boy' and 'I'll miss you" and 'be good, okay?' He kissed his head and scratched his belly, giggling as his tailed wagged rapidly.

"Thank you, Ma'am. I really appreciate all you've done." Dean said and she nodded, standing up and patting him on the shoulder.

"You take care of him, you hear?" She said, nodding toward the small boy in the floor, gripping the German Shepherd puppy.

"Believe me, Ma'am, I will." He said, grinning at her and returning the hug wholeheartedly when she wrapped her fragile arms around him.

Sam stood up and smiled, content in knowing that Riot was safe and happy. He looked at his brother and nodded, answering silently that he was okay.

"Well, come on, Squirt, we'd better be headin' out." Dean said as he walked over to his little brother and ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly messing it up and hearing a groan in return. 

They both walked to the door, Marge following quietly behind. As they reached the heavy, wooden barrier, Riot started barking and whining, nudging and scratching at Sam's legs. 

"I gotta go, boy. I'm sorry." Sam said, trying desperately to act as if he was tough and this was no big deal.

"You boys take my number, okay? Call anytime, you hear? And visit if you can." Marge said, handing them a slip of paper with beautifully written cursive and a list of numbers. 

"Sure thing." Dean nodded, wishing that this would actually be the case. He'd never hoped to come back to a town before, especially one where they worked cases, but he found himself wanting to visit this lady again. Her wisdom was compelling, and Dean was sure that Sam would love to see Riot again.

"Right, Sam, come on." Dean said, trying to sound stern and just rip the band-aid off quick. Sam nodded and patted the puppy's head one last time before bidding Marge a farewell and a thank you. She hugged them both again and then they were off.

On the way back to the car, Dean shrugged his arm around Sam's shoulder, blocking the wind from his bare arms, but also to comfort him. Sam leaned his head against his brother and wrapped his arm around the elder's waist and grabbed a handful of leather jacket to keep him grounded.

Dean squeezed his arm gently because it just felt like the thing to do and Sam hummed contentedly. He kept the positives in his mind. Riot would have a big yard to run wild in, a caring old lady to keep company, and when Jackson visited, he'd have a blast with the six-year-old. Things would be okay.

They got into the Impala and Dean started driving, the darkness of the outside seeping into the car. Sam was tired and he wanted sleep, but his brain wouldn't stop thinking, it working a mile a minute.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam in the dark, not really being able to see him well.

"Yeah." Sam said with a nod. And he was, to an extent. He was okay for now because he knew that Riot was okay. But, he knew that by tomorrow, the fact that this was the last time he'd see the puppy would sink in and fill his chest. He hoped that Marge would let Riot sleep with her. 

"Good." Was all Dean said.

And as they drove through the dead town, seeing closed stores and vacant sidewalks, one thing weighed down on Sam's chest and made itself evident. Dean was the best brother he could ask for.

"De?" He asked, carefully, quietly, almost afraid to break the silence that had taken resident.

"Yeah?" Dean replied, also talking quietly which made Sam wonder if he felt the same way about the silence.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Sammy."

\-----

It was about a week later, or maybe even two, and they were sitting in some shabby hotel smack in the middle of Mount Vernon, Washington working some case on a Rougaru.

John was out talking to a policeman and the like while Sam and Dean were sat at the table, researching. It had been a few hours and they were currently waiting on Bobby to call them back because they weren't finding a damn thing.

"Hey, Sammy, you getting hungry?" Dean asked when his own stomach rumbled. 

"Yeah." Sam said quietly. Ever since Riot had left, he'd went into this sadness. It wasn't that he was depressed. That wasn't the case. He was just tired of the sacrifices that Dean and himself seemed to be making all the time. 

Maybe an apple-pie life wouldn't be so bad. Two story house, picket fence, lasting friends, Riot. He sighed at the last thought.

Dean had noticed, too, how upset Sam had been over the span of the last two weeks and he was being considerate, he was, but it was just hard to have his little brother so down lately.

"Come on, there's a diner near by. Sound good?" He asked the younger, reaching over and ruffling his hair, knowing he hates that, but getting no reaction other than Sam fixing it.

"Yeah. Can we walk?" Sam asked, and Dean nodded, happy that his brother wanted to do something for once. So that's what they did. They walked across the street to the small, local diner and stepped in, hearing the bell ding as the door opened.

They ordered their food, Dean getting a bacon cheeseburger and teasing Sam when he opted for a salad. Sam actually glared, and Dean smiled because this was progress.

The brothers ate their meal with a halfway steady conversation. Sam seemed distant, with his head in the clouds. Dean was beginning to get worried because he knew that they had both lost so much and now Sam had lost his puppy to add to that list.

Once they finished their lunch, Dean threw their trash away and they headed back to the hotel.

"Hey, Sammy, I got you somethin'." Dean said when Sam sat back down at the small table to resume research. He looked up, dumbfounded.

"It's not my birthday." 

"I know that, Sam, but-"

"It's not Christmas."

"Dammit, Sam, I know." Dean chuckled. "But, listen, I know you've been down about Riot, so I got you something." It's not like he was trying to buy Sam's happiness, just wanted to cheer him up and let him know that he was cared for.

Sam waited in his chair, staring at Dean. The elder moved across the room to his duffle bag, pulling out a medium-sized gift bag and handing it to the younger. He desperately hoped this would cheer Sam up, make him happy, or at the least, that he would like it. 

Sam skeptically looked at the bag before opening it and looking at the contents. He gasped and smiled as he pulled out a stuffed German Shepherd that looked exactly like Riot. Of course, it wasn't the real thing, but it was the thought that counted. Dean had really tried and that's what had mattered. Plus, the stuffed animal reminded him of Riot and that definitely comforted him.

"I, uh... I thought you might like it- do you... Do you like it?" Dean asked hesitantly. To Sam, he sounded nervous, and while the younger felt like teasing him for it, he opted to disregard that thought. He nodded rapidly, so much so that his mop of hair flopped around, causing Dean to chuckle. 

"I love it, De." He spoke as he got up to hug his older brother, clutching onto him greatly and snuggling his head into his chest.

"Alright, Sam." Dean laughed, playfully shoving him away. "Enough chick flick moments."

"Shut up." Sam said and he latched back on, knowing that Dean loved it, he just liked to think he didn't. He wanted to act tough, but deep down, he was a big teddy bear.

"Whatever, dork." He chuckled and hugged his brother back, lifting him up and swinging him once before placing him back on the ground, making the younger giggle slightly and grin. Dean felt accomplished, like he'd achieved something great with making Sam smile again.

And later that night, after John had returned, and they were all tucked away. Sam, with his stuffed dog, turned into his brother and smiled as the soft snoring of their father filled his ears. He rested his head against the elder and drifted off into a deep sleep, his stuffed puppy swaddled in his arms.

He may not have the best life, but he had Dean. And that was good enough for Sam.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. All together, writing and coming up with a title that I both fit and brought me joy, this story took about week. I mostly wrote on the bus and at school, though, so it can only be so good. I hope you enjoy and please comment because I need validation.


End file.
